Date: Fri, 25 Apr 2014 00:56:07 +0100 From: Vintage Speedoboy Subject: Spitfire summer Spitfire summer An account of the experiences of the summer of 1940 from a 13 year old boy. By Vintagespeedoboy. Note, the title has no connection with the works of the same titles by Malcolm brown, Terence Dicks & Peter Harding, it is entirely a work of fiction & the historical accuracy is altered for the story. Please read nifty's conditions stated on the website before reading this story & please donate if you can, enjoy the story. It has been less than a year since the day Britain declared war on Germany & already the country is experiencing shortages with food, petrol & clothes rationing, all of which require coupons, already every spare bit of land is being utilized for growing crops to keep the country fed including peoples gardens, mum has to take all her tips from the Ministry of food leaflets to get us by. Treats such as sweets, chocolate, ice cream & soft drinks have now disappeared from the shops & our mums can't make pop in any great quantity as sugar is also on ration, we have to be careful how we look after our clothes now & make them last, what were once cast offs is now make do & mend. My name's Jim, everyone at school calls me Jimbo, I'm 13 years old & attend the local secondary boy's school, I'm now in my second year & have one more year to go before I leave at the age of 14, I'm 5 foot 6 inches in height with sandy brown hair in the normal short back & sides style with bright blue eyes of a footballers build. My clothes consist of=grey flannel short trousers, grey flannel shirt, woolen jumper which mum has knitted for me, long woolen socks which I have rolled down most of the time, knitted cotton underwear which sometimes can be seen below the leg line of my shorts, a heavy stout pair of lace up shoes, a cotton gabardine jacket, a wooly hat, wooly gloves, an old leather belt & finally my fathers old WW1 Mk V11 army gas cape which is my rain cape especially when I'm out on my bicycle, every one calls me Sherlock Holmes because I'm always wearing it whenever it's wet & Holmes is my surname. For Sunday best & whenever I have to be smartly dressed I wear my school uniform with short trousers, ( I was 16 when I bought my first pair of long trousers after having saved up clothing coupons), my PE kit consists of a navy blue pair of long leg cotton shorts, a white cotton vest & plimsolls, swimming trunks are an afterthought, they're made of a cotton wool mix & go really baggy when they're wet, a few boys have Jantzen trunks which have the famous diving lady logo, here's where I'm lucky, I managed to buy 2 pairs of pure silk swimming trunks from a sports shop last year on scout camp, these are a brief style with tie cords for the legs & waist used by club swimmers, I love wearing these instead of underpants & for a good reason as well, I have a 6 inch when its hard cock nesting in a large bush of pubic hair which is always getting boners & every time that happens it leaks a fair amount of a white coloured watery liquid into my trunks making them wet which I've heard is the stuff which comes out before you shoot your spunk which they call pre-cum & in my case I can now shoot a big load up to 2 yards away if I have a wank standing up & afterwards my cock still keeps leaking the remains of my spunk into my underwear, it's these stains which Mum always gives me a grilling about hence the reason I change my underpants for my silk swimming trunks before school. My day starts early in the morning at Britton's dairies, I start my milk round at 6am Mondays, Wednesdays & Fridays as the milk ration is 3 pints per person per week, when I arrive Mr. Britton has already loaded up the milk cart which is coupled up to an old Thos Merryweather & sons steam traction engine, it's smaller than the type used on farms & I love every minute of the ride on that old engine with its smells & sounds although the cops keep warning Mr. Britton about sounding the engine's whistle early in the morning. I return home on my bike at 7.45am for breakfast, put on my school uniform & go to school, on the way in I stop at Jones's shop & for a half ounce of either broken biscuits or biscuit crumbs for a penny which I'll eat at break times with the free third of a pint of milk, after school I do my evening paper round before going home for my evening meal, on Friday evenings I attend my scout troop at Saint Joseph's church, please excuse the long introduction which is needed to give the reader a good insight into the time unless you were around at the time in which case you'll remember them like yesterday, now to the story. During the Easter holidays of 1940, myself & a few scouts were on our 1 day hike which is one of our scout tests, we had climbed to the top of Beacon hill & sat down enjoying the view on a fine sunny day when we heard the unmistakable roar of a fighter, either a Spitfire or a Hurricane, we stood up craning our necks to see who's the first to spot it which was me, the Spitfire came in low over the valley & climbed so as to pass low & close to the side of the hill, if there's one thing which thrills me, it's the sight & sound of a Spitfire, it is such a beautiful aeroplane with a loud evocative roar from it's Rolls Royce 27 litre V12 Merlin engine, as it passed by the hill I could clearly see the pilot's rosy complexioned smiling face as the RT mask was unclipped, there was no mistaking it, that plane was being flown by a woman who gave us a thumbs up sign, it bore a crest on the side of the aircraft denoting which town had raised the ?5,000 needed to buy a Spitfire, the roar from that plane almost deafened us as it passed by before it climbed into the sky waggling its wings, 'OMG!, that plane gave us a salute & it's a sight which we'll remember for the rest of our days.' My best mate's a boy called Bill, he's a boyish faced blue eyed blond of the same size as myself with the same size cock, he's in my class at school & in my scout troop, last years scout camp was at Torquay in Devon which has a beautiful sheltered cove about 10 minutes walk from the camp site where we went swimming every day, it's there that both Bill & myself had our first sex together in the woods near to the camp site, at first we just wanked each other off before we experimented with each other progressing onto sucking & fucking. We had our sleepovers under canvas last year for which our shelter consisted of tying 2 gas capes together to make a flat basha before tying it between bushes with string from the corners & a length from the centre to an overhanging branch giving it a slight slant for rain water to run off before finally camouflaging it with leaves & vegetation, even from a short distance away it's very hard to spot giving us privacy at night whenever we have really great sex between us. Our camping gear consists mainly of army surplus items mostly from the First World War consisting of a bedroll & blanket, groundsheet, gas cape, D shaped tinned steel mess tins, water bottle, Tommy's cooker & whatever else we could scrounge, we walked to the nearby bluebell woods which is next to Benson's farm which is also used as an airfield & is bordered by the river. We set up our basha well inside the woods, camouflaged it & talked to each other amidst the birdsong all around us, it was so peaceful that you wouldn't have thought there was a war on, sometimes you would hear a plane but that was about it, we were told not to light any fires because of the smoke which could attract the attention from a German plane so we used one of my Tommy's cookers which is a tin containing alcohol paste with a pot stand & burns with a blue flame at night & invisible in daylight, we brewed up a mug of tea & made an omelette from some powdered eggs mixed with pemmican & spread that on slices of bread. We laid on our bedrolls after finishing our meal talking before it turned to sex, we both had huge boners inside our shorts & with me wearing those pure silk swimming trunks my cock was twitching & throbbing wildly as the head pushed out through the foreskin onto the silk straining against the material, pre-cum flowed copiously into my trunks making them wet & forming a wet patch on my shorts, if I laid here much longer I would be shooting a load of spunk into those trunks without ever touching my cock & said to Bill, "I had better do you now," to which he agreed taking his shorts & underpants off & crouching on all fours whilst I slowly pushed my leaking throbbing cock inside his hole. My cock was so hard & rampant that I lit up a cigarette which gave me a head rush after a couple of puffs & seemed to tame my cock somewhat, it's a trick which I heard from an older boy in the playground who says he's fucked a few girls which I don't believe for one minute as we've all been warned that getting a girl pregnant could land you in Borstal & definitely get you a few strokes of the dreaded birch, even a minor misdemeanor would get you a clip round the ear from a copper. The cigarette trick certainly seemed to work as my cock is only now occasionally twitching & is still hard which means that I will last a bit longer & enjoy the fuck of my best friend more as I slowly pumped into him, after a few minutes those lovely sensations built up inside my cock & balls until my spunk gushed deep inside him with a series of squirts, this caused him to shoot out his load all by itself over my groundsheet as his hole kept grabbing my cock. Afterwards we sat on a fallen tree whilst my spunk drained out from Bill's bottom & we both cleaned the spunk from our cocks before lighting up cigarettes & enjoying the euphoric high from a good session knowing that the next one would be me taking Bill's cock inside me, I can't wait. I didn't have to wait long when Bill stroked his cock & got it ready to fuck my hole, fortunately he had a small tin of Vaseline which we shared to lube up with, after smearing it over his cock & inside my hole he slowly pushed his rampant cock inside me waiting a while before pounding me for all he's worth taking only a few seconds before I felt his cock swell up before feeling a series of warm gushes as his spunk flooded into me, his cock kept touching something inside which felt awesome & made my cock shoot all by itself without touching it, after that we had a good nights sleep under our makeshift shelter. As neither of us had watches on we couldn't tell the time when we woke up the following morning & boy were we in for a surprise, sat outside our shelter was old Bert the poacher, he must be in his 60's at least & still as fit as a fiddle, he had the appearance of an old tramp with his flowing grey beard, bushy grey brown curly hair, bright green eyes, a deeply suntanned leathery face wearing an old trench coat, dark brown trousers & stout brown hob nail boots. He lit up an old pipe using a lighter made from a bullet casing & looked deep in thought as he took a few draws from the pipe with the aroma of the smoke wafting through our camp site, beside him lay his stout walking stick which concealed & assembled into a small bore muzzle loading percussion shotgun, he opened the conversation asking. "May I please trouble you lads for a nice cup of tea?" I lit the Tommy's cooker & boiled enough water for 3 mugs of tea, old Bert surprised us by producing a small bottle of milk, as I looked at it in disbelief exclaiming. "Where did you get that from?" "Aah you see, I have a way with cows, if I want a drop of milk I just go up to one & milk it." "You crafty old devil!" said Bill with a look of surprise on his face, the water boiled & I made the teas, old Bert carried a WW1 mess tin set in his pack & passed me the lid which made his cup, as he took a few sips he said. "I see your mum's taught you well, that's a very nice cuppa thank you." He went on telling us about his poaching exploits which we listened to with great interest with my young mind taking in his best methods until he took out an old tobacco tin inside of which he kept a few home made banger fireworks, he lit one & tossed it a few yards away, we watched its glow cord fuse smouldering intently for a few minutes before it erupted with a loud bang, we laughed out loudly especially when he explained to us that he uses one as a distraction if a gamekeeper is likely to catch him. We laughed loudly when he told us about one who was haranguing him face to face when the firework exploded some distance away & he told the gamekeeper. "There's your poacher over there," at which he made his escape. We cooked some more powdered egg omelette mixed with the remaining pemmican for our breakfast fully expecting someone to come & investigate the bang which no one did, we struck camp & parted company watching old Bert depart through the woods when suddenly just like a ghost he was gone, he did leave us a rabbit each for our mums to skin & cook. I met him whenever I camped at this spot which would be frequently throughout the summer during which he imparted his knowledge to me like a mentor, I was glad that he did, later on those skills would stand me in good stead & one day a police constable knocked on our door, he carried a package wrapped in brown paper & told me to get a gun licence right away, when I opened the package it was old Bert's gun, he had succumbed one cold & wet night, the note was found on his body & it was his dying wish that I would become the new owner of his gun. All too soon the Easter holidays were over & it was back to school for the summer term, we looked forward to the swimming baths opening & the school's swimming periods even though the water felt icy cold during the early part of the year, the strongest swimmers were selected for the Bronze medallion lifesaving group, this is the qualification required to work as a lifeguard which was valid for life & I was one of the boys selected. We changed 2 to a cubicle which I shared with Bill, after drying ourselves we would briefly stroke each others hard cocks for a few seconds because we always had to get changed rapidly & finish the job inside a derelict house during our lunch break, there was a shed at the bottom of the garden which was totally covered in brambles so thick it just looked like a huge bushy mound, last year we gathered loads of big juicy blackberries from there, it was such a huge load mum made a delicious blackberry pie, loads of blackberry jam & dad even made some blackberry wine for Christmas, already I'm looking forward to the next harvest of blackberries. Over the next few nights I patiently cleared away the covering of brambles from the door for which I wore dad's pair of stout leather gloves, when I finally entered the shed the inside looked like a morgue, everything was covered in dust & cobwebs, somehow I was drawn to the tarpaulin covering a large object, it was heavy & covered in dust, slowly I managed to removed the heavy canvas revealing an old motorcycle, my eyes lit up with excitement & thoughts flooded through my head as though I've found long lost treasure or the Holy grail itself, I was now on cloud nine. I looked the machine over by torchlight; both tyres were flat, the levers worked & the wheels turned round, I tried to push the machine but it was too much for me so I sat on it, lit up a cigarette & contemplated my thoughts, I remembered the difference of wheeling a bicycle with a flat tyre to one with both fully inflated & realized that I am going to have to blow up both tyres to move it, I went back home & returned with dad's Dunlop Junior car foot pump, connected it to the valve hoping to god there was no punctures, I laboriously pumped away on the pump changing my foot as I went with the tyre creaking as it slowly inflated until it became too hard for me to continue pumping. I took a rest before pumping up the other tyre again changing my foot over, this time I was beginning to tire & my legs were aching, I persevered & finally the tyre was now fully inflated, there were no ominous hissing noises which would mean there's a puncture, the machine was now as light as a feather to push, I packed the footpump, torch & cutters into my haversack, sat on the machine, eased it through the door, through the garden onto the streets which were unlit owing to the blackout, home was just a half mile away & being stopped by a policeman would very likely lose me my prize & possibly have me hauled before the juvenile magistrate. The bike was now safely parked in my shed, thoughts as to if it would start? Where would I get petrol? Which is rationed? Would it need a spare part? All I knew is that the machine is a Francis Barnett with a Villiers engine, I couldn't very well go around asking my mates at school, throughout the day I kept thinking about that machine & come lunchtime we went to the derelict house for a smoke, there were 4 of us went & it was immediately noticed that the shed door was open with Tim, another friend of mine saying. "Look at this! Someone's been in here," as we quickly entered the shed & lit up our cigarettes. I searched through the shelves finding things like nuts & bolts, some garden tools & a cardboard box which had the appearance of being moth eaten; I looked inside & found an instruction manual & spare parts list for the motorcycle, before I could put them inside my haversack one of the boys said. "Here come on, let's have a look at those books." I replied. "OK but its finder's keepers, they're mine now," as the boys looked through them Tim said. "They're for a motorbike; you haven't even got one you daft sod!" Jack the 4th member of our group looked at the tarpaulin noting the area of the floor which the machine had stood before finally noticing the tyre marks leading to the door; he looked at me with a suspicious look, pointed to the floor saying. "Look at this, I tell you there's been one parked in here, see those marks on the floor, see the oil stains, see how clean it is, see how all the brambles have been cleared away from the door, someone knew there was a motorbike in here & took it away, that could have been us if we'd have known!" I managed to keep the motorcycle a secret from my mates & soon all talk about it & the fun they might have had on it soon died away, I kept on thinking about bagging bunnies for the pot, with food being rationed a few bunnies would help us with a bit of meat on the table even though there's loads of rabbits out in the country there's organized poaching gangs going after them with nets, ferrets, snares &c, with butchers prepared to pay up to half a crown for each one & the skins selling for up to 3 pence each, gangs are making money hand over fist, farmers don't usually mind people shooting them as they eat a lot of food crops & even most coppers look the other way, they're after the gangs who can rake in up to 200 bunnies in a nights work, this was the days before the myxomatosis disease was introduced. Old Bert told me that the holy grail is to bag a pheasant, during the day you just can't get anywhere near them for a shot, at night they tend to roost in bushes so as to avoid foxes, Bert was a stickler who swore by eating your greens as he insists it improves your night vision, with vegetables being off ration, kids having priority for oranges & apples & my last school medical eyesight test being perfect I felt confident that I could indeed go after them, the question remained I needed something quiet to bring one down, a gun fired at night is almost like shooting a hornets nest. Poultry farmers had a hard time as did anyone who kept chickens as poultry theft was rife, even the couple of chickens one kept so as to have eggs weren't safe, we had 3 hens which we brought indoors at night whilst some of our neighbours had there's taken during the night. Both Tim & myself went into the shed of the derelict house after school one day, I was sat next to him at the back of the classroom during our last period of the day & he got a huge boner inside his shorts, he leaned back on his chair proudly showing it to me, it looked really huge inside his shorts & I knew he has the biggest cock in our form although up to now he's never let anyone touch it, now he's quietly asking me to feel it which I did, I could feel it throbbing & pulsing inside his shorts, I couldn't keep my hand on it for long so I whispered to him. "Come with be to the old house after school." Once inside the shed with the door bolted, we dropped our shorts & underwear when Tim's eyes almost popped out of his head in surprise as he exclaimed. "Blooming heck, you're wearing your swimming trunks!" I took them off saying. "Here Tim! Why don't you try them on?" He slipped on my silk trunks & popped a boner with his huge cock; the trunks barely contained it with the tip of his cock almost reaching his hip, he felt all over the trunks, humped the air in front of him saying. "They're fantastic, they feel so good on my cock, I'm just about to shoot my spunk inside them," I saw his cock pulsing away inside my trunks, lit up a cigarette & passed it to him saying. "Quick! You'd better have a few puffs on this." Tim took a few puffs giving him an awesome head rush & taming his rampant huge cock before taking my trunks off & handing them back to me with a large wet spot where his cock discharged some pre-cum asking. "Can you tell me where you got them from? I want a pair; they're awesome, just like a pair of girls panties." I slowly wanked his huge cock which continually oozed pre-cum which dripped onto the floor before I knelt down in front of him, put his cock in my mouth & sucked on its glans; he elicited a loud sigh before saying. "Oh my god, that feels so good," I continued sucking for a few moments when suddenly he said. "I'm going to shoot." Suddenly his first blast of cum shot out hitting my throat causing me to gag & pull away from his cock before several more ropes squirted into my face & over my shirt, I licked some off & swallowed it, Tim's spunk tasted really nice, he looked at me in surprise saying. "I didn't think anyone did that, it's so horrid." I put some on my finger offering it to him asking. "Why don't you give it a try? You might like it." He licked the offering from my finger, swilled it around like a connoisseur tasting a fine wine before saying. "It's not that bad, it does taste quite nice." He returned the service giving me a good wank with several blasts of spunk flying out about 5-6 feet landing on the floor in a pool before the last dregs dribbled out from my cock, he took some on his finger & licked it saying. "Your spunk also tastes nice as well," I took out my ruler from my haversack asking. "Let me measure your cock," I measured it from the pubis to the tip & across the glans saying. "Its 8 inches by 2 & a bit across the head, you've got one hell of a huge cock for a 13 year old, I can only just about get my hand around it." "We must do this again, you were amazing," "I would like that very much, how would you like to spend a night under canvas in Bluebell woods with me, we could do so much together & no one can see us." "You're on, I'll take you up on that, and good job I'm in the scouts I love camping." I met up with old Bert in Bluebell woods & this time he allowed me to fire a shot from his gun, as a walking stick it felt quite heavy which meant that as soon as someone held it they would immediately guess it wasn't just a walking stick, he removed both ends, screwed the stock on which contained the trigger mechanism & the hammer, showed me how to measure the powder with a powder horn, put in the first wad with a ramrod, poured in a measure of shot, put in the second wad with a ramrod, cocked the hammer, placed a cap on the nipple & now the gun was ready for firing. He showed me how to hold it & sight along the barrel which wasn't obstructed as the hammer was underneath and then passed it to me as he instructed me how to hold it saying. "You hold the gun into your shoulder & look along the barrel to aim it at your target, let out a breath & pull the trigger." I became nervous knowing that I now had a real gun in my hands; I followed his instructions pointing it at the side of a bank of earth, took aim at a spot & pulled the trigger. The gun erupted with a loud bang belching out a cloud of sulphurous smelling smoke with the recoil giving my shoulder a thump, I felt a sense of euphoria knowing that I had controlled & fired a deadly firearm & handed it back to Bert saying. "Thank you, that was truly amazing," we went over & looked at the spot where the shot hit, he then praised me saying. "Well done, you've just fired your first shot & you hit your target, had that been a bunny you would be taking it home to your mum for your dinner." With the weapon having discharged its shot it now became unloaded, he coached me through all the known firing positions & how to clean the gun before showing me how to stalk my prey emphasizing that I should NEVER move around with the gun both loaded & cocked for which the price may well be an accidental discharge & possibly killing someone, these were hard lessons he was teaching me & imparting his knowledge of decades out in the countryside, his lectures went further covering shelter building which he demonstrated with his oiled canvas sheet & how to camouflage it, he even erected his sheet into a diamond shaped tent, dug a small trench around it & covered it with leaves & debris from the ground, apart from the twine tied to the apex, it looked just like a mound on the ground & he said. "This diamond shape is how you put it up in very bad weather, your own body heat can warm it up inside & if it's really cold you can just light a candle which will give you a bit more warmth, no one can see the light as it doesn't penetrate the canvas, if you have to put up the diamond where there's no trees right in the middle of nowhere you tie a couple of long sticks to form your 'A' poles & just put it up," I was learning more from this old soldier than in any training manual. He went onto demonstrating movement with stealth starting with what he called the 'Ghost walk', anyone who's ever walked through woodland will always crack a twig sometimes with a very loud crack, by rolling the feet across the sole it a twig is stepped upon the crack is often reduced or even eliminated, his lecture went onto various forms of crawling & monkey runs, then onto walking across country keeping below the level of hilltops to avoid silhouetting yourself against the sky, walking close to hedgerows, reducing ones profile when crossing gates using a 'Gate vault', then onto navigation at night or in fog in featureless terrain, using a compass &c. He further went onto camouflage methods of breaking up the human form, constructing ghillie suits, use of camouflage netting with differing coloured strips of sacking or burlap & when he laid down in the grass he just looked like a nondescript mound & certainly unlike a person lying there who could suddenly jump up if need be, his final parting gift of the day was a book by Lilias Rider haggard published in 1935 which charts the story of Frederick Rolfe the king of the Norfolk poachers titled 'I walked by night', he brewed up some tea as I flicked through this book. I thanked him for this wonderful book, the cup of tea & his wisdom imparted to me that day, we met right throughout that summer during which I honed those skills he imparted to me, in a way I had become his apprentice & he was the sorcerer, between him & his book I learned skills to stand me in good stead throughout the war & after with the continuation of rationing which was finally abolished in 1954. During one of our meetings in Bluebell woods he asked me something which took me by surprise when he said. "Young Jim, I keep looking at you & you've always struck me as a very nice boy, you look good & I've seen that you're packing quite a size in your shorts, has anyone ever played with it?" Right away I knew what he was after, we've heard tales from the man who looks after the old Victorian public toilets in the park, we call him 'Bog hole Bill', he keeps warning us that there's men who like young boys & to be careful, of course none of us believe him as no one in my class has been accosted by such men, those toilets are badly looked after & it seems its only the paper which gets changed, the litter picked up & there's been a hole in the dividing wall between both cubicles for as long as I can remember, Tim would later become the first the day he puts his rock hard cock through that hole. I answered truthfully that I've had sex with a few boys both in my school & scout troop, I saw that he indeed was becoming highly aroused with a bulge in his trousers, his voice changed & his eyes took on a gaze which I felt making my cock rock hard, his conversation went onto describing his experiences from decades ago when he was my age right through his teenage years before he got married & had a family, he went onto lovingly describing his wife & his young son in loving detail & showed me an old photograph, his boy looked stunning even though the photo was the worse for wear, he looked a fine handsome man in his 30's with a beautiful wife & a 12 year old son, my curiosity wanted to know where they are when tears flooded his eyes & he cried loudly with an outpouring which he has borne inside him for 28 years since April 14th 1912 when his family went down with the RMS Titanic. Throughout my childhood I kept dreaming of a huge black ship with its stern out of the water lit up like Blackpool illuminations when the lights suddenly flickered before they went out, it was horrible watching that ship sink into the sea with all those people in the water, that dream always woke me up crying & many is the night mum has comforted me as I cried myself back to sleep, she even took me to doctors & even a consultant psychiatrist & no one found anything wrong with me, as I gazed at John, the boy in the photo I realized just how much he looks like me, that's when I knew that I have John's spirit inside me & felt a feeling of peace & fulfillment which also came over Bert's face, when he showed me their birth & marriage certificates we would receive such a shock as I gazed over those documents, now faded through time & having been in the sea but still perfectly legible, this now became a story which could make front page news headlines, I was now looking at mum's original birth certificate. As I broke the news to Bert saying. "This is my mum, how could this have possibly happened? He questioned me very closely before tears of joy flooded his face saying, "She's alive! She's alive! We hurriedly walked to my house, I let myself in with the key saying, "Mum, there's someone who wants to see you," as her gaze fell on him she shouted out. "Jimmy, why in hell's name have you brought an old tramp to my house? When suddenly her searching gaze fell on his face, even after 28 years it was those bright green eyes which she recognized, her face looked like she'd seen a ghost when I asked mum. "Please look at these documents & this photo." She looked through the documents lovingly describing their times together & spent ages lovingly talking about that photo, I hurriedly put the kettle on to make a well deserved cup of tea which became a few as they lovingly talked over their past but with mum now married to dad, theirs became a parting of the waves with Bert quietly whispering into my ear. "Pop over to the woods after your tea." I met Bert as arranged in the woods where we sat on a fallen tree, he gave me a long hug & I felt the erection in his trousers against mine which rapidly became hard, Bert said. "Continuing the conversation we had earlier about messing around with other boys, you're a fine young lad & it's been a long time since I've had sex with one, would you like to have me?" I have always wondered what it would be like to do it with someone older & harboured a secret wish to do so, I thought about it & my rampant cock guided me into saying. "Yes please, you will be gentle won't you?" He gently felt my cock through my shorts which was leaking pre-cum into my silk trunks, electric jolts flowed through my body as I elicited a loud sigh, I had never felt like this when another boy touched me & a euphoric glow which I've never experienced before overcame me as a single jet of spunk shot into my trunks, he took my shorts & trunks down & sucked on my cock saying. "You've got a really nice size on you for a lad of your age." It felt so awesome as he sucked my cock with my balls & glans tingling, my cock became so hard as those feelings built up within minutes before shooting several huge squirts of spunk into his mouth, I couldn't feel the squirts as those feelings became so intense I screamed begging him to stop as my body thrashed around uncontrollably after which I felt on cloud nine with the awesome afterglow that followed. We kissed & hugged each other with him putting his tongue inside my mouth giving me a taste of my own spunk before we sat down smoking a cigarette each after which I gave him my tin of Vaseline to lube us up, his cock was a bit longer than mine & fatter, he slowly pushed it inside my hole leaving it there for several minutes to settle, it's constant twitching felt awesome making my cock hard again, he slowly pumped his cock inside my hole which seemed to be touching something inside me which made my cock feel like shooting another load, again those feelings quickly built up until several huge squirts of spunk shot out of my cock without me touching it landing a few feet away as I felt a series of his very strong pulses inside me as his spunk flooded deep inside me, once again those feelings were so intensive I was almost screaming my head off with pleasure. Again the afterglow was so awesome together with a feeling of deep satisfaction as we both sat on the tree smoking another cigarette each & he said in a loving voice. "Jim, you've given me the best fuck I've ever had in my life, "to which I answered. "Likewise, I have never felt like that with another boy, our session was truly the best yet." I now had to dump the spunk from inside me before going home & just as I was about to leave, he produced two rabbits which he shot earlier saying. "Now Jim, you be a good boy & give those to your mum, I'll see you again sometime." I bid him goodbye & left in a high state of euphoria walking through the woods whistling the tune from the 1939 movie 'The wizard of oz' 'Somewhere over the rainbow'. The following day Tim went into the public toilets for his usual wank whenever he goes into town, this time a voice from the next cubicle said to him. "Hey young lad, how about you put that lovely cock of yours through the hole." Tim obliged the strange voice & immediately a mouth took his cock, his tongue licked all over his glans which gave him such intensive sensations he shot a huge load of spunk into the eager mouth within a minute during which the intensity of his sensations had him screaming begging whoever was sucking his cock to stop after which he walked to a nearby park bench, sat down & smoked a cigarette in the awesome afterglow he was now experiencing waiting for whoever sucked him off to come out before the time on the church clock told him when to return to school. Our May day bank holiday scout camp was on the edge of Benson's farm beside the river & this time we encountered a problem brought about by the war, our 2 man hike tents which we used last year were now banned because they were white & could easily be spotted by a German aircraft, frantic calls were made by our scoutmaster trying to locate tents in either green, khaki or brown only to find that all the towns scout troops were in the same boat, it looked for all the world that our camp would have to be cancelled, boys became disheartened until I said my piece to the scoutmaster asking. "How many boys have either army groundsheets or gas capes?" he shot me a serious look & thought for a moment before asking. "Holmes, say that again." I replied. "The gas cape or the groundsheet is issued to every soldier as a means of constructing a shelter; two tied together make a flat shelter big enough for two of us to sleep under which is called a bivouac, normally they would string them between trees, on the farm we would need tent poles about two and a half feet long for which we use broom handles, each one would need a cut off nail in the end which goes through one of the holes, if someone can find some tubing we could cut those poles down to half their length in which case you would get three 15 inch lengths from each broom handle, two broom handles will make three pairs of poles." The scoutmaster shot me a thoughtful look before saying. "Watkins, get me a broom from the cupboard, Bridger, go to the store room & fetch me a groundsheet," both boys returned with the items whilst I erected the folding wooden table & the scoutmaster perused over the items thoughtfully, took some measurements with a ruler saying. "Holmes, you might have something here, you've just gone & saved our weekend camp," as a resounding cheer went up from the boys, he took down a list which read= Quarter inch steel rod or 6 inch nails for tent pegs, huge ball of strong twine, broom handles, tubing, more groundsheets or gas capes, try asking the RAF? & every boy had to state whether he had either an ex military groundsheet, gas cape or both, as luck would have it most of the boys had both. The school metalwork master cut the tubing & the rod to size bending the ends over whilst the woodwork master cut the broom handles to length, fitted the tubes & pinned them, my father arranged for the loan of a number of groundsheets from the RAF, & come the day we had more than enough for our bivouacs making each one out of 3 groundsheets & gas cape permutations, each boy kept one 2 piece pole & thankfully with the good weather we all had a great camp that weekend after which the period known as the phoney war was coming to an end. To be continued.